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10 January 2012

Go Fucking Feral #2- A Shutthefuckup Salad With A Side of Extra Rants

I mean, you gotta behave like a grown fucking man. You gotta shut the fuck up. Don't be sorry, don't look fucking back, because, believe me, no one gives a fuck.

In the last installment of this series, we covered the fact that I've recently received a spate of emails from alleged men who apparently lack both testicular fortitude and any semblance of comprehension of my metholodogy or mentality. This has, of course, angered me greatly. I provided a couple of examples of feral children and their awesomeness as a bit of evidence for the fact that you're far more physically capable than you would have otherwise thought, and could likely do some amazing things if you could only stop convincing yourself, and allowing others to convince you, that you suck at everything you try, are weak, and are doomed to wallow in a sea of suck for all eternity.

The time for genocide is now.

A short aside: One of the most virulent and offensive exhibitions of this "I suck and can't help it" mentality is the practice of setting a New Year's resolution. In setting a NYR, you're doing a couple of things, all of which are about as cool as those grown men who brag about watching My Little Pony and write fan fiction for the show. First, you're announcing to the world that you've identified a fault within yourself and refused to resolve it. Second, you've decided to procrastinate on even pretending to resolve the issue until an arbitrary date. Third, you're making a hell of a lot of noise about nothing, since only about 12% of people who make New Years Resolutions enjoy anything resembling success.(Quirkology) It's a fucking embarrassment of fat, drunken David Hasselhoff with a hamburger proportions. If you think you suck, fucking stop sucking immediately. Women, I'm pointing at you and your motherfucking diets- there's no goddamned time like the present. Stop putting shit off until tomorrow like you're a modern day J. Wellington Wimpy, who is perhaps the cartoon character most deserving of a curb stomp in history.

Every fuckin’ beatin’ I’m grateful for. Every fuckin’ one of them. Get all the trust beat outta you. And you know what the fuckin’ world is.

Back to my original rant:I realize that the internet provides a lot of you with a cloak and mask from which you can hide from the world and publish your dumbest thoughts and desires with impunity, and a great many of you make full use of that anonymity for naught but evil.(Fingeroth 48) I don't even mean "evil" in a badass Dr. Doom sense, and no, your brainless trolling of some random forum is neither amusing nor clever nor terribly evil- it's pathetic, wasteful, and should be the catalyst for your suicide rather than the suicide of others. Instead, I mean evil in the "little e" sense- like the evil perpetrated by a particularly dull and ineffectually annoying toddler too fat and lazy to get into any real trouble. The world would likely be better off if most of us stopped fucking breathing anyway- a recent poll revealed that Americans considered this pack of assholes to be the most admirable men in the country:

1) Barack Obama- a president who went from "suck" to "shit" in record time and managed not to do a single thing promised on the campaign trail, a feat only previously accomplished by James A Garfield and William Henry Harrison. For those of you who are either foreign or a moron, both of them died within a year of taking office and spent the entirety of their term on their deathbeds. If only Obama had had the good graces to do that.2) George W. Bush- The single worst US president in the last 100 years. Jimmy Carter was a boon to the economic and international politics compared to this useless cocksucker, may he rot in hell. If any of you participated in this poll, let ANYONE who's aware of it know so they can strangle you to death with some rusty barbwire. 3) Bill Clinton- Irrelevant unless you want advice on banging fat broads and getting caught thereafter. Then, bang more fat broads to forget your married to the angriest lesbian this side of Gloria Steinem.4) Rev. Billy Graham- Religious lunatic who makes senior Al Qaeda members seem like reasonable and rational men by comparison. Billy Graham is so insane for Jesus that he literally yells "I'm Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs" in the middle of the Lord's Prayer while shitting his pants and heaving handfuls of sparkles at an audience who could only be there because one of his stable of eunuchs is holding a knife inscribed with John 3:16 to the throats of their parents.5) Warren Buffett- Pompous blowhard who's become rich by being a real life Scrooge McDuck. That motherfucker pinches pennies so hard he made half of his fortune by warping coins for children at Please Touch Museums. He sustained himself during this enterprise by living off the tears of the children who couldn't pry the coin out of his wretched claws after he squeezed it into an unrecognizable state.6-tie) Newt Gingrich- Drug addict, pompous ass, and writer of unreadable yet enticing historical fiction. His books make you want to claw out your fucking eyes within 16 pages, but you keep going because the dust cover promised more awesome than a gangbang at a Disney Channel 15 year reunion.6-tie) Donald Trump- The only interesting person on the list, if only because of the fact that one of the richest men in America apparently cannot afford a decent toupee or stylist.8) Pope Benedict XVI- The emperor from Star Wars made it onto this list, which fascinates me.9) Bill Gates- The genius behind Windows ME, Windows 7 (FUCK THE UAC IN IT'S HORRIBLE, STUPID ASS. If you don't know what I'm referring to you must either be a Mac owner or computer illiterate. As I suppose those are the same thing, you're either computer illiterate or a computer illiterate hipster who should find an ironic bleach and drink it), and Clippy, that ever-so-helpful cocksucker of an obnoxious popup paperclip. Fuck this guy.10) Thomas Monson- I've no idea how anyone even knows this guys name, or why they give a shit. Apparently, you can't swing a dead cat in a closet without hitting 43 Mormons. Sneaky motherfuckers.

Throw on top of that list the fact that the number of people in the US who think humans were created by god in their present form within the last 10,000 years is at or over 40% (Science and Nature), and you've got a fairly compelling reason to kill half of the population outright, without a single regret. That would be feral. The shit that I see on a daily basis is about as feral as a newborn lamb on a pile of pink cotton candy wearing Care Bears underoos with Michael Bolton playing softly in the background.

There is no reason for the inclusion of this picture other than the fact that it exists.

I realize that in the intervening week between posts, this seems like a hell of a lot of rant without reason, but I assure you, my reasons are legion. The docility and submissiveness in the verbiage of the emails I've received of late is appalling, and I thought it necessary to instill a bit of fear in you motherfuckers- that shit will not be tolerated. As such, here are a couple examples of the nonsense I've received, with my analysis thereof and response thereto.

"So here's my skinny. My pitch and my "hey". I will devote whatever of myself is required, to make me a huge dastardly mother fucker. And I want you to help me. I want to workout twice a day. I want to drag anchor chains and pull 1.5" line attached to a truck. I want to do sprints and tire flips. I want to sprint hurdles and do high jumps. I want to use chalk when I talk on the phone. I want to be a legendary strong man, and have every possible vein in my body pulse like a new song from Skrillex on ecstasy. Can you do this for me? Will you be my coach? Will you help me achieve greatness at an exceptional level? I want more out of life and for me, it comes from the grueling tediocity of power, strength, and weight lifting. Be my coach homie. Be my mentor and make me a fucking monster. Please.

I have more motivation than 50 of your bloggers put together...I just need to be "told" what to do."

I suppose it goes without saying that the final line of that email is one of the most patently disingenuous statements ever uttered within my proverbial earshot- if he was that motivated, he'd need no direction other than that which would show him where the nearest useful gym was located. The entire tone of this email drips with desire for acceptance, yet the author clearly fails to understand even the most basic tenets of my life philosophy and the mentality I promote.

There are essentially two types of people in the world, and they're very aptly depicted in the Matrix- those content to pretend to live in freedom, and those who will actually endure the pain of doing so. I'm the latter, whereas the author of this email is very clearly the former. He's the dickbag in the Matrix who sells out his buddies for the illusion of a delicious steak, knowing it's total bullshit but refusing to care.

"Whereas those who sleep within the Matrix have the illusion of individual freedom... while being slaves to the worst aspects of collective consciousness, those who are truly free ultimately fight alone. Which is preferable? Our instincts tell us to be alone and aware, with the perhaps distant hopeof building a community. Even if we fail at building it, or its goals are never revelaed, we still know we have tried. We'd rather be alone- orphans- on our own terms than to be taken care of it is as slaves to a government or machine, or even an idea."(Fingeroth 71)

If you want to "do Chaos and Pain", asking me to program your workouts is obviously not the way to go about it. The entire point of this methodology is to find what works best for you and do it, and to throw off the strictures and shackles heaped upon you by a weak-minded and -bodied society to find your own way. It's to try new shit, push yourself harder and farther than everyone else, and transcend the mediocrity of the masses to achieve excellence. It's not about doing what I fucking tell you, because I'm not in the business of telling people what to fucking do. The very idea someone would want to be told what to do fucking disgusts me. For the love of all that's fucking holy, don't bend your knee to me- I neither want acolytes nor need them. I wish for nothing more than other people to get off their knees, stop sucking the cocks of supposed gurus because it's popular to do so and far easier than thinking for your fucking self, and do something epic. I leave the demagoguery to people like Mark Rippetoe and Zach Evan-Esh, because I choose to lead by example. If you motherfuckers want to follow me where my path takes me, that's fine by me- I'm happy to beat down the fucking bushes and blaze a path for like-minded individuals. I will not, however, carry you motherfuckers in a loving embrace and gently part the palm fronds for you. Think for your fucking selves and DO for your fucking selves.

Those of you asking me for programs are this guy, exactly. If any of you had any balls, you'd do what we all wanted to do to this fucker when watching the Matrix, step outside yourself and hand yourself a beating that would make even the likes of Fred Ettish take pause at its utter severity.

What you should not be doing, however, is deluding yourself into thinking you're free when you want nothing more than to be in a gimp suit in my basement. That's not my style- it's way too much fucking work and responsibility. Additionally, I have no idea how I would go about influencing someone to be like my. I exist because I'm not swayed by the influence of others- I assimilate massive amounts of information and utilize it to make decisions after experimenting with the aforementioned information as the basis. I do this without consulting anyone else- not my mom, nor lifting coaches, nor my friends or random passers by. I rely on myself, my balls, and the knowledge that no matter what result I achieve, I did so at my own behest and as the result of my own thoughts and actions. That is what being free is all about.

For those of you who are still confused, the people who truly understand this blog will agree that we're not the fucking X-Men- that is to say, we're not a group of misfits persecuted by society and united by fear and ostracization that band together for mutual protection like a herd of cattle. Instead, we're like a Punisher/Wolverine/Hulk team up writ large- a pack of loosely coordinated, like-minded, pissed off individualists hell bent on bringing our fight to the world's doorstep. Stop looking for a fucking handout, grasp your cock or your cunt, and attack the world for being the soggy pile of dogshit that it is. That's what feral humans do, and that's what you could be if you stopped thinking about what you were going to do and simply fucking did it. The Wild Man of St. Louis, a feral adult who was captured for no apparent reason in the 19th Century, took no shit from anyone, least of all cats, and when cornered fought overwhelming odds and escaped the second he could. Instead of thinking about doing shit, plotting to do it, talking about it, and ultimately accomplishing fuckall, he went superhuman on society's ass and maintained his freedom from the litany of bullshit with which the rest of us have to deal on a daily basis.

"The wild man, of whom some accounts appeared in the papers, was caught lately and brought to St. Louis. He was surrounded in a sort of lair beneath a dense cluster of undergrowth, like the habitation of a wild beast, and filled with the bones and skin of cats, which seemed to have constituted his principal article of food. For this strange diet he had a peculiar penchant, and eschewed almost every other. He hunted cats with an avidity prompted by an extreme voracity, and it was in the pursuit and slaughter of these animals that he was first discovered. Frequent attempts were made to capture him, but his agility and speed was such that he appeared to run upon the tops of the bushes, and fences offered no impediment to his headlong course. At length a great number surrounded and secured him. He attempted battle, but was overcome. When brought to the Court House he presented the strangest appearance conceivable. His height was about five and a half feet, his hair was long, reddish brown and matted, his eyes large, gray, and restless, his finger nails as long as the claws of a tiger, his deportment crouching --half timid half threatening--and his garments consisted of a thousand tatters of cloths, barks, cat-skins, &c, bound together by catguts. He said he was from the State of New York, and had been in the woods thirty-six years. While he was being examined, and was permitted to stand unbound, he made a sudden spring over the heads of those who surrounded him, and darted away with the speed of the reindeer. The crowd pursued him, but in vain. Over the hills he fairly flew, before footmen and horsemen, until he was lost to them. Nothing has since been heard of him. He is certainly a strange being, and is literally a wild man. His age can hardly exceed forty, and yet he has lived so much away from the society of man that he has nearly forgotten his language and has the most vague recollection of things. He remembered New York, but did not know where he was, nor the form of government under which we lived. Dr. Knode was examining him when he escaped, and it is to be regretted that the doctor could not have had an opportunity of ascertaining the character of his mania."(Frank Leslie)

"There's no short cut, no easy way. No one can give us freedom or happiness- because anyone with the power to protect us has the power to kill or enslave us as well."(Stanton 163)

"I'll start this program on Monday (i'm OCD and have to start a program on a Monday. It's weird, I know) and increase and decrease the volume as needed depending on how I feel."

This is, without question, indicative of the worst feature of modern society- the desire to be disordered. No one takes responsibility for their actions any longer. They're helpless pawns of their genes, and everyone's genes are apparently rife with horrible mutations of one sort or another. For those of you who aren't following, this stupid motherfucker does not have OCD, and his use of the term indicates that he's either painfully stupid or so weak of character that his mommy has to coax him out of bed in the mornings to get him to start his day. After cutting the crusts off his peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, she apparently allows him to use the computer, which he does at the risk of destroying what little dignity he has left.

For those of you out there who might be empathizing with this sad sack of shit, slap yourself in the face like you're a 1940's housewife who burned the meatloaf, because you're being a fucking cunt. You're not disordered. Your thyroid isn't the problem. Your metabolism isn't the problem. your ratio of Type I to Type II fibers is not the problem. You brain is the fucking problem. You've nothing preventing you from starting a workout program on a Wednesday, a new diet today, or a new exercise in your next workout other than fear and stupidity.

The Afghanis know how to do one thing right- identify and lock up their lunatics. Unless you're crazy enough to be in leg shackles, shut the fuck up about your "disorders", already.

Though they've fallen out of favor in deference to our society's overwhelming obsession with the contents of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, heroes in literature used to be fucking awesome. Influenced heavily be the amazing book I've mentioned before, Gladiator, a new type of hero became popular in the 1930s and 40s: "the self reliant individualist who stands aloof from many of the humdrum concerns of society, yet is able to operate according to his own code of honor, to take on the world on his own terms and win." (Reynolds 18) These guys were all aloof, cocky, loner badasses who fucked shit up with impunity while giving the world the finger in a way Kid Rock could only dream about. They didn't excuse their stupidity by blaming it on a disorder invented by psychiatrists so they could get kickbacks from pharmaceutical companies- they brought the fucking ruckus at every opportunity. They didn't pause to consider their myriad failings, nor did they stop to justify their fear of the unknown with a pathetic excuse- they acted.

If you're on the fence about what to do to get yourself out of a rut, that's not uncommon. Psychologist Rom Brafman has identified the root of the problem- there's a sway from which many people suffer, myself included, called "commitment", in which people get so stuck in their ways that they cannot rationally evaluate their alternatives. As such, you have to simply get fucking feral, stop thinking, and go. He who hesitates is lost. Don't be a dithering bitch- act. Try something new that you've thought was cool but were scared to try. Do squat lockouts with half a ton. Push your car down the street. Try some ultra-heavy hand and thigh lifts. Do a barbell one arm snatch. See how fucking far you can throw a keg full of sand. Or beer. Grab a chick's ass in a bar. DO SOMETHING.

If you saw this chick and didn't grab her ass, you'd have failed at life.

"So, are you really all-natural?/You're a roidhead and everything you say is bullshit/are you on steroids, if so where can I get some/etc."

Initially, I regarded these emails with a bit of sadness, because the authors were clearly mentally retarded. As such, I wondered how or why they stumbled across my blog, and then how they managed to compose their emails. My most recent exchange in regards to this subject truly pissed me off, as pussies who couldn't handle my workout weights have no fucking business demanding that I answer their stupid, irrelevant, and ultimately pointless questions. Additionally, I've stated many times that all of the "testosterone boosters" promoted in the US in the last decade have been steroids, most of which were based on the formulations of the now-defunct Balco Labs. I've used those supplements, repeatedly, and have promoted them on my blog. I don't consider myself natural, don't give a shit who is natural, think that self-promoters screaming about how natural they are likely have the lot of you snowed, and couldn't possibly care less about who's using what.

There's only one type of person who does: Pussies. Big, sloppy, wet, yawning cavities of vaginas, slavering for a big cock to fill them with goodness to remove the empty feeling inside them. If you're busy worrying about who's on what and when and how much and why, you're doing one thing- looking for the starting point for a litany of excuses. All you have to do is read their retorts to see how pathetic their mindset really is, because they'll all sing the same sad-sack refrain- it's cheating, they can't compete, there's no comparison between natural trainees and geared lifters, ignoring all the while that most of the truly impressive strength feats predate steroids. These stupid pieces of shit will explain away guys like Saxon and Sandow and Aston and Maxick as freaks of nature and irrelevant, because those examples completely destroy their bullshit argument. Even when people compete in tested competitions, these "natty" lifters will call bullshit- look at all of the accusations flying around about Konstantin Konstantinovs, for instance.

Danny Fingeroth actually had an interesting point about the fact that some people love to differentiate themselves from those who beat their asses at anything at all- they're Superman fans.

"Is it easier to read of a superior being from beyond the stars outclassing us that of a guy from down the block who was just luckier or stronger or smarter? Maybe that's the key. Maybe we feel uncomfortable with the idea that we're not living up to our potential, or that someone else has more potential than we do. Or that they're living up to their potential better than we are to ours? But if someone else isn't really playing on the same field or by the same rules we do... then maybe we don't have to feel so bad about ourselves. I suppose this would characterize the Superman fan more than, say, the Batman fan."(Fingeroth 32)

If you're lost, and those of you still shouting insipid retorts to my earlier comments doubtless are, allow me to elucidate this point. Non-powered superheros, or those with non-superfuckingfantastic powers, go toe to fucking toe with the Supermans and Green Lanterns and Wonder Mans of the comic book universe without a second thought. The Punisher, for instance, went toe to toe with the Hulk, and at no point bitched about the fact taht the Hulk had superpowers and he didn't. Likewise, Hawkeye fought the Beyonder in Secret Wars without taking his toys and going home because the Beyonder was "cheating", and Batman beat the everloving shit out of that punk-bitch Boy Scout Superman with nothing but hate on his side(and an exoskeleton, but fuck, he was a senior citizen at that point). "A winner is used to accepting full responsibility for his actions", "immediately takes charge even when he lacks the authority to do so", and that "a sour-faced, pessimistic attitude is for losers, not for winners", which is why those guys didn't take shit from the "cheaters" and just charged headlong into the fucking fray.(Van Fleet 64-66) Feral humans, similarly, don't make fucking excuses about their opponents and claim they cannot compete- they react, adapt, and overcome using nothing but their balls and a hell of a lot of aggression. To wit:

"The story of the Wild Girl of Champagne is detailed by a trustworthy French writer, M. de la Condamine. One evening, in September, 1731, the people of the village of Songi were alarmed by the entrance into the street of a girl, seemingly nine or ten years old, covered with rags and skins, and having face and hands black as those of a negro. She had a gourd leaf on her head, and was armed with a short baton. So strange was her aspect that those who observed her took to their heels and ran in-doors, exclaiming, "The devil! the devil!" Bolts were drawn in all quarters, and one man thought to insure safety by letting loose a large bull-dog. The little savage flinched not as the animal advanced in a fury, but throwing herself backwards on one limb, and grasping her club with both hands, she discharged a blow at the head of the dog, as it came nigh her, with such force and celerity as to kill it on the spot. Elated with her victory, she jumped several times on the carcass; after which she tried in vain to enter a house, and then ran back to the wood, where she mounted a tree and fell asleep."(Frank Leslie)

I didn't stop to think about why my traps weren't hideously large- I just kept adding weight to the bar and shrugging until my shirt collar touched my fucking ears.

Clearly, the Wild Girl of Champagne didn't stop to rationalize the unfairness of pitting a 10 year old girl against a full-grown bulldog, because she was feral and thus awesome. In stark contrast to feral humans, however, most "people adjusted their judgments of the desirability of a future event to make them congruent with its perceived likelihood, but only when the event triggered motivational involvement."(Kay) In other words, they adjust their goals to match the perceived likelihood that they'll be achieved- thus spiraling into a progressive downward spiral of expectations because they will tell themselves they cannot do something, suck as a result, and readjust their expectations downward again. They thus would have just thrown their hands in the air and been eaten by that bulldog were they placed in the Wild Girl's position, because they would have thought that it would have been pointless to fight and would have consigned themselves to death. That pathetic fucking behavior is the reason these dickbags on messageboards, and the retards who email me, constantly blather on about steroids- they're piss weak, embarrassed to be alive, and want a reason to rationalize their failure at life. If you're one of the pussies still squealing about the magic of steroids, consider this:

Steroids are not magical, they don't make people superhuman, and they're not the reason why guys or girls in the gym outlift you- your lack of intestinal fortitude, hard work, drive, determination, aggression, and hate are the reason you fucking suck.

Thus endeth my rant. You can, and should, be better than you are. Stop asking other people for validation and assistance and fucking do it yourself.

54 comments
:

Great post as usual, Jamie. Out of pure curiosity, if you did vote (I have a sneaking suspicion that you don't based on previous posts) who would you cast for in this next election? (Choices include all of the GOP primary and third party guys running)

The problem with most people reading this blog is that they think success comes from lifting weights.LOL, give me a fucking break.Unless you're competing, no one gives a fuck what you do, and even when you compete you're basically a loser unless you're number one-- Jon North recently wrote a blog about being fucking homeless.Yeah... awesome.I care so much about lifting weights that I'm homeless...Maybe the fucks reading this blog should try to be more successful in real life instead of in the gym.

Such a lack of imagination, heart, and soul. Big dreams make big lives possible. Big sacrifices make big accomplishments that much sweeter.

You think being homeless a few days or even a few weeks is even worth worrying about within the context of achieving your dream? In the immortal words of Brad Pitt, "That is why no one will remember your name."

Wasn't attacking North, although reading it makes it seem that way.I'm attacking people that make their lives revolve around lifting weights when they're neither good enough to compete or are simply filling a void.Passing up a career opportunity, always cutting classes or living in a van outside of Gold's for the sake of lifting weights (I've read and seen all of these things online)... these aren't sacrifices, they're mistakes. Some people need to be realists.You say I'm soulless, and that's fine, but I'm realistic about my decisions.

As I read that first email, I can *literally* hear the guy sobbing (and possibly masturbating) as he typed those words. I thought you were being hyperbolic in part one, but that shit is infuriating.Mike

Jamie, don't be so naive. ;) You know some guys in tested meets are still on 'roids but that makes no difference to me. I actually know a few guys who have got into tested meets while using.

I personally don't understand why everyone needs confirmation. Personally, I go into the gym 6 days a day (4 heavy and 2 light), train the things that are my weakest points (and never train my strong stuff), and be a boss while all the other faggots are dedicating an ENTIRE DAY to bicep curls. The fact that someone came over and got pissed at me for dropping weights confirmed to me that I'm too much man for my gym. ;)

- And took lots of steroids. At the end of the day Jamie, people 'bitch' about other people using steroids because, however you want to try and justify it, it's cheating. If a man can squat , lets say 400lb max (just for example), but after taking using steroids for a while squats 700lb. Should a natural lifter feel the steroid user is better than him? In the lifting world, we all compare ourselves to other people, and admire those who are stronger. But is it justified if it's drug induced? That theoretical steroid user would have been working just as hard before he took them, so it wasn't extra effort that got him there. To me it's kind of like those adverts for bench shirts that claim to add 70lb or whatever to your bench press. Does using them really make the actual person stronger? Should they be admired more because using a bench shirt made them lift more? If steroid use is a moot point, why take them?

omg Rant did you even read the article, bro? You don't understand, he is just heaps stronger than those natty faggots because his workouts are just so EXTREME to the MAX. mega dosing cattle steroids has nothing to do with it. ever tried the one arm snatch, Rant...? yea...that's what's holding you back...maybe if you natty bitches stopped making excuses you too could look like a blurry baby man in a shrunken shirt.

Rant, steroids are a proverbial "ace card," as Dave Tate so kindly put it. Chances are you're not going to get 300lbs on your squat from taking steroids if you aren't partially built for it. Casey Butt has discussed the genetic capabilities for strength before. Though, genetics aside (as it is a common excuse to use amongst pussies), steroids aren't a magical piece of dust that makes you instantly awesome. Again, as Dave Tate said, they're an ace card. Want to go from highschool football to college? Use 'roids but chances are you won't make it pro. If you're stuck at 300lbs on your squat, you're not going to instantly squat 600lbs by taking steroids. And, even if you did, chances are you're not going to be much better.

To be honest, tired of people always whining about genetics and steroids. Humans always look for an excuse for being mediocre. Why the fuck does it matter if someone uses steroids or not? In the end, you do you. If you are going to say that X guy is stronger than you because of steroids then you're just being a fucking pussy. You may never be stronger than them because they do take steroids but who loses anything trying their hardest?

Neither of those two give a rat's ass about logic or reality. To them, anything you do beyond what they do is "cheating". Their Rule Book is "Anything I Don't Do That People Who Outlift Me Is Forbidden." They do this because they're as mentally weak as they are physically weak.

You're totally right, Rant- those aren't even mucles- that's my dbol stash strapped to my fucking back. What person on Earth went from 400 to 700 on the squat solely from using steroids? Do you actually think before you type, or is rational thought so foreign to you that the gibberish you spew is identifiable as a logical and rational argument? Additionally, you missed my point that there are a lot of "natty" guys out there who aren't- they've been using tren for 5 years and had no idea. Does their ignorance make them natural?

Jamie, have you ever read Iron Mind's Stronger Minds Stronger Bodies or Winning Ways? Both good books that are along your line of thinking involving mainly doing what you want. Also written by Randall Strossen Phd. Something you might want to look into if you haven't already.I don't totally agree with everything in the books but then again I don't totally agree with almost anything for what its worth.

Good shit. You better be busting some records or i'm gonna give you a limey bitch-slap from over here in the 'Isles.'Seriously though have a good lift man, cool to see you're backing your shit up with results.

Jamie, try being less of a gay icon and these emails might not happen so often.

"Rant", trying to lift heavy without steroids is not like trying to lift heavy without lifting gear. Trying to lift heavy without steroids is like trying to lift heavy without meat. The difference between steroids and a bench shirt is the answer to the question "Does using them really make the actual person stronger?"

I used to get some bad ones from the geeks at rosstraining. It's what happens when you get elevated to "guru" status and probably especially when being a guru was never your intention. More and more weirdos start coming out of the woodwork. The strangest thing about it all is that as insistent and persistent as they are about getting your opinion, your opinion is not actually what they're after. What they want is more like your particular spin on what they already believe. Give them anything else and they'll turn on you in a heartbeat. Egoes are even more fragile online than they are in real life. Hard to believe since there's no real contact between anyone but it's true.

That's exactly why I avoid BB.com, you get scrawny guys asking for advice but it's never what they want to hear, they think you'll give them some exotic secret way of getting bigger and stronger outside of 'lift heavier and eat more' that place is full on fucking retarded. Guess being spoonfed is just the norm these days.

God only knows what these idiots think people did before the internet.

Any advice on stacking, Rant? I want to try my first cycle and figured I'd ask you since you seem the typical roid raging motherfucker the internet seems in awe about. How are those low estrogen levels treating you? Enjoying the gino?

Jamie, sort of off topic here, I read this article on leptin production and resistance: http://www.t-nation.com/free_online_article/most_recent/control_leptin_and_control_your_leanness, and noticed some of their tips are similar to previous things you've stated. Do you have any other tips to add on the subject?

My fav band. Really like melodic death metal. I'm usually very picky about music but this is the only band which, I think, doesn't have any bad songs. These are my fav songs: Death Walked The Earth, The Harrowing Years, The Killjoy, Numen Divinum, Black Waters, Journey Unknown, Where The Last Wave Broke, Mortal Share, Since The Day It All Came Down, Devoid of Caring, Into The Evernight, Against The Stream.

On the subject of people who think they're "OCD", there are two types of plates at my gym: larger plates with handles and smaller ones without handles. I was doing squat lockouts last night with 8 plates each side (the first plate loaded on was of the handled variety, the other 7 were normal plates) and a guy asked me if he could have the handled plates (meaning I'd have to unload 8 plates from each side between sets). I asked why and he twirled his finger by his ear to suggest some kind of mental deficiency. I obviously said no. Weirdo.

In Chrome, click the wrench icon on the browser toolbar. Mac users: If you don't see the wrench icon, go to the menu bar at the top of your screen and click Chrome. Options (Preferences on Mac and Linux; Settings on Chrome OS)> Under the Hood> Content settings in the "Privacy" section> select "Do not show any images."